


Development Hell

by beer_good



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Disney, Hollywood, Multi, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beer_good/pseuds/beer_good
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While killing time in Rome, Buffy runs into a new Slayer with a shocking secret. Now, she's going to have to face her past to keep both herself and those around her from a Fate Worse Than Death... Hollywood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1, in which Buffy meets and rescues someone claiming to be Buffy The Vampire Slayer

**Title:** Development Hell  
 **Author:** Beer Good  
 **Fandom:** Buffyverse, post-"Chosen"  
 **Rating:** PG13  
 **Word Count:** ~900 (this chapter)  
 **Characters/Pairings:** Let's see, there's Buffy, Andrew, Lorne, and a couple of OCs. Various other characters as well as canonical pairings will be alluded to, played with, and lovingly frosted with glucose. Also, any similarities to actual Hollywood actors are _entirely_ coincidental, I swear.  
 **Summary:** While killing time in Rome, Buffy runs into a new Slayer with a shocking secret. Now, she's going to have to face her past to keep both herself and those around her from a Fate Worse Than Death... Hollywood.

**Development Hell**  
 _Chapter 1, in which Buffy meets and rescues someone claiming to be Buffy The Vampire Slayer_

Rome. The seven hills. City of kings, senators, emperors, popes, and fashion models. A city so old nobody even knows how deep down it goes. A city where you _can_ , technically, toss a pebble without hitting something (and occasionally even someone) older than Columbus, but if you do, the pebble you threw will probably turn out to be part of something dating back to Caesar and worth a ton of dough.

At least it seems that way if you grew up in a town where hardly a single building is more than 20 years old.

So it seemed a bit weird to Buffy that there'd be an entrance to the catacombs in an ordinary apartment building. Sure, it didn't look as if anyone had bothered painting the facade since the war, but it was just an ordinary, slightly dilapitated apartment building on the edge of the centre of town, with people passing in and out even at this time of night, so they had to keep their weapons hidden. Buffy wondered if she'd already been in Rome too long, when the idea of heading down into catacombs dating back thousands of years seemed like an everyday chore.

Still, this wasn't the place to get philosophical. She had three new Slayers with her, looking to her for leadership and role modelness.

"Right... you," she started with a voice that hopefully sounded like she'd been here a hundred times before. After that thing two months ago she'd given Andrew very specific instructions not to hand her any girls who didn't speak English, so she should be in the clear language-wise (even if her Italian was getting pretty good - she'd already figured out "spaghetti", "pizza" and "espresso"). The tricky thing was always getting back into Buffy The Vampire Slayer mode every two weeks when she spent the rest of the time being Buffy The Expat on extended vacation. Not to mention keeping track of stuff like... names and backgrounds and stuff, and to stop mentally referring to the three girls with her as Huey, Dewey and Louie. But that's the reason she only handled simple recon missions where she could basically be a tour guide; the point wasn't to get them almost killed, but simply to give them a few hours with the original Slayer. A morale thing, according to Andrew. Buffy had a sneaky suspicion Dawn wanted her to do this because she thought Buffy would get cranky if she didn't get to kill things every other week, but of course that was ridiculous.

So, "Right... you," she said, "this is where we get into the catacombs. I want you to keep your weapons hidden until we get through the door, after that, keep them ready. Things could get ugly fast. Questions?"

"Uh, yeah." Dewey... One of the girls raised her hand; a blonde American wearing a top that Buffy would have been impressed with a few months ago, SoCal by the dialect. "What's our motivation in doing this?"

Buffy looked at the girl. "Well, um..."

"MacKenzie."

"Sorry, MacKenzie. We're going to kill vampires."

The girl actually picked up a notepad and wrote that down. "Yeah, but why? I mean, what do the vampires represent to us?"

"Um... they kill people by sucking blood and we have a sacred calling to stop them?"

MacKenzie shrugged and pocketed her notepad after a few quick scribbles. "I can work with that."

Buffy nodded. "Good. Alright then, _Ashanti_."

Huey and L... The Ugandan Slayer and the Russian Slayer exchanged a quick look behind Buffy's back as they headed into the perfectly normal 20th century lobby, went down a perfectly normal 20th century set of stairs, pushed a perfectly normal 20th century brick, and stepped into a secret passageway to a creepy old catacomb full of ancient bones. And this was where things started going seriously off-script.

Not that the vamps themselves (four scrawny-looking youngsters in t-shirts, probably former tourists who really should have been ashamed to nest in a place like this) should have been all that problematic. Two of the Slayers handled themselves perfectly, engaging their vamps without needing or expecting Buffy to help, not showing off more than they needed to. MacKenzie, however, wasn't quite as impressive. To be specific, she fumbled with her sword and dropped it as if it weighed way more than she was used to, and when she saw two vampires in gameface turn on her she ran screaming into a dead end, where she sat cowering as they advanced on her. "Hey!" Buffy tossed her a stake, which to her credit MacKenzie tried and failed to catch. "Oh, for the love of ..." Buffy rolled her eyes, pulled out her backup stake and dispatched the two vamps in roughly 1.9 seconds.

MacKenzie sat in her corner, wide-eyed with shock. "Those were... those were _real_ vampires!"

Buffy pulled her to her feet. "Uh-huh. And if you're a Slayer, I'm the pope. Who are you, and how did you get on this..." She almost said 'tour.' "...mission?"

MacKenzie looked at Buffy as if that was the dumbest question she'd ever heard and finally responded: "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

"I'm you, of course. I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer."

To which Buffy could only gape in open-mouthed surprise for a few seconds before retorting, "Chi cosa come _eh_?!?"

 


	2. Chapter 2, in which Buffy finds out that whatever is going on, it probably doesn't involve robots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While killing time in Rome, Buffy runs into a new Slayer with a shocking secret. Now, she's going to have to face her past to keep both herself and those around her from a Fate Worse Than Death... Hollywood.

**Development Hell**  
 _Chapter 2, in which things are explained_  
  
In his office, Andrew was just putting the final touches on his latest scrapbook of successful multi-Slayer missions when his door opened and Buffy poked her head inside.  
  
"Hey, Andrew, guess what? I was just enjoying my regular bi-weekly vacation from vacation and planning where I was going to go shopping tomorrow, when..." She opened the door fully and marched MacKenzie into the room, guided her to the visitor's chair and pointed at her with the sword she'd conveniently forgotten to sheathe. "I don't know what she is, but there better be a good explanation. And let me just stress that if the explanation contains any variation on the word 'robot', it'll be considered Not Good."  
  
MacKenzie looked offended. "I'm not a robot! I'm very - "  
  
"Funny, that's what the last robot said." Buffy turned to Andrew. "Well?"  
  
Andrew took on the same look he always got when he had to say something he knew people wouldn't like, and was trying to come up with a good way to spin it. "Hey, did you know that _Sound Of Music_ was based on a true story?" he finally asked. "And _Shakespeare In Love_? And..."  
  
"...and _Night Of The Living Dead_ ," Buffy interrupted. "All myths are true, yada yada yada, got that when I killed Hansel and Gretel. What's your point?"  
  
MacKenzie was busy checking herself for bruises and dirty clothes. "I'm so telling my agent about this," she muttered.  
  
"Agent?" Buffy's eyes widened at the concept of mysterious people in trenchcoats switching briefcases on park benches. "Andrew, what the hell is going on here?"  
  
Andrew took a deep breath. "Buffy, this is MacKenzie Williams. She's been cast to play you in the upcoming movie trilogy based on, uh, your life."  
  


***

  
  
"Yes, really," MacKenzie finally said after Buffy had spent about two minutes just looking back and forth between her and Andrew, her mouth opening and shutting with little "Wha-", "Huh", "You gotta be", and "Really?".  
  
"See," Andrew finally dared interject when it didn't seem as if his violent death was imminent, "She wanted to make sure she got you right, so she asked to tag along on a mission to observe and study how the greatest Slayer of the Vampyres of all time does the voodoo that shedoo, and so the producers called me, and - "  
  
"They're making a movie about _me_?" Buffy finally said, sounding as if she honestly wasn't sure if she should be insulted or flattered.  
  
Andrew nodded. "Uh... yeah. I mean, why wouldn't they?"  
  
"And she's an _actress_."  
  
"Uh-huh," Andrew nodded. "You might know her from such things as - "  
  
"And you didn't tell me?"  
"And you didn't tell her?"  
  
Buffy and MacKenzie realised they had yelled at Andrew at the same time, looked at each other, and then turned their ire back at the poor Watcher.  
  
"How could you not tell me?"  
"How could you not tell her?"  
"I could have gotten her killed!"  
"She could have gotten me killed!"  
"How much are we getting paid for this?"  
"Does this mean I'm not getting paid for this?"  
  
After a few minutes of this, Andrew managed to mumble something about having to make a phone call and hurried out of the office, leaving Buffy and MacKenzie to stand around looking generally peeved. Buffy crossed her arms and glared angrily at the spot where Andrew had been sitting. MacKenzie shot her a quick glance, and then crossed her arms and glared angrily at the spot where Andrew had been sitting.  
  
Eventually, Buffy snuck a look at MacKenzie and cleared her throat. "Something on the Disney channel, right?"  
  
MacKenzie snuck a very similar look back and cleared her throat. "I was Madison on _Dracula High_ for three seasons."  
  
"Oh." Buffy nodded. "You know the vampires on that show were totally unrealistic, right?"  
  
MacKenzie nodded. "No sh- uh, no kidding."  
  
"I mean, what was up with the..." Buffy uncrossed her arms and gestured awkardly.  
  
MacKenzie uncrossed her arms and gestured awkwardly. "The... flying?" she ventured.  
  
Buffy smiled. "Yeah."  
  
"Oh, tell me about it." MacKenzie smiled.  
  
Buffy gave her a more thorough look, which MacKenzie returned. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier, and about, well, obviously there's not gonna be a movie now. It's not that I'm not flattered, and I'm sure you'd make a good... me, but I'm just not interested. I mean, this is my life. Plus, we've got a ton of girls to train, and I don't want them to get the wrong idea about what it means to be a Slayer. You get that, right?"  
  
"Sure," MacKenzie replied in the same slightly concerned yet curious tone. "It's OK, I guess, there'll be other roles. I feel a bit sorry for Donny and Buddy, though, they really had their hearts set on it."  
  
"Donny and Buddy...?"  
  
"Donny Japp and Buddy Orlando," MacKenzie clarified. "They were gonna play Angel and Spike."  
  
Buffy held up her hands in the international sign for hold on just one cotton-pickin' minute here. "Wait, I get to... I mean, you get to make out with _Donny Japp_?"  
  
Andrew, who had just come back in, echoed the sentiment while unconsciously clutching his _Lord Of The Rings_ t-shirt. "Wait, she gets to... I mean, you get to make out with Buddy Orlando?"  
  
MacKenzie held up her hands. "Well, not anymore, I guess."  
  
"OK. But..." Buffy fidgeted with her hair, saw that MacKenzie was doing the very same thing, and with a frown on her face stopped. "What are you doing?"  
  
MacKenzie frowned. "What?"  
  
"You're copying me!"  
  
"No!" MacKenzie answered in the same slightly offended tone, "Well OK," she admitted, "maybe I'm just trying to get your character. My acting coach says..."  
  
Buffy whimpered. "Andrew, tell her the movie's off. Japp or no Japp."  
  
"Actually, about that." Andrew quickly ran down the result of his phone conversation with the producers and their reaction to Buffy's refusal, which basically consisted of 'That's too bad, but since we didn't technically need or want her permission, we're going ahead anyway.'  
  
"They _what_?" Buffy lowered her voice and widened her eyes in righteous anger, forgetting to keep her eyes on MacKenzie who duly noted her every expression. "They can't do that! Can we sue them? Oh! Angel runs a law firm now, right? We'll have him sue them."  
  
"That's a great idea, but I'm not so sure it's a... um... a good idea," Andrew said. "For one thing, regular courts might not accept that vampires exist and that you were chosen to slay them. Plus, you'd have to admit to breaking the law on pretty much a daily basis."  
  
"I don't break the law!"  
  
"How much did you pay for that antique sword?"  
  
"I found it in a grave in... Oh."  
  
"Precisely." Andrew put his hands together and smiled; he was feeling far more at home now. "Yours is a secret struggle, a rebel working in the dark, who cannot play by society's - "  
  
"Andrew!"  
  
"Sorry. For another thing, um... who do you think they got the story from? There are only so many people in LA who know your whole life story, and... well, Angel's law firm _is_ technically evil, and they represent a lot of movie studios."  
  
Buffy clasped her hand over her eyes. "I'm going to kill him. I swear to every god in Willow's spellbook, I'm going to kill him."  
  
"You mean 'again', right?" MacKenzie asked. "Because according to the script I've got, you already killed him at least once, and - "  
  
Buffy ignored her. "OK, Andrew, get me on a flight to LA. Right now."  
  
"Already taken care of." Andrew smiled and with a well-practiced flourish produced two newly-printed airline tickets for the next day.  
  
"And there's two because...?" Buffy looked from Andrew to MacKenzie and groaned.  
  
"Well, the studio is paying for the trip, and they kinda want her back in one piece."  
  
"Besides," MacKenzie said, "if the movie _does_ happen, I really want to make sure I do you justice. I mean, duh, you saved my life. So if I can just spend a few hours with you and ask you some questions..." She held up her hands to halt Buffy's protestations. "I'm just saying, if the movie happens. Plus, Donny would love to meet you."  
  
"Really? Me?" Buffy blinked and then snapped out of it and held up her hands, unconsciously copying her double. "OK, you know what, fine. The sooner I get this over with, the better. I've got things to do."  
  
"Oh, by the way," Andrew called out as Buffy turned to leave, "in case you need to, you know, work off some steam, I just found out that there's a vamp nest downtown that nobody's dealt with yet."  
  
Buffy turned back and pointed her sword at him. "OK, you and Dawn seriously need to stop it. I do _not_ need to kill things to unwind. I'm unwound. I'm unwounder than a... a..."  
  
Andrew and MacKenzie exchanged a look.  
  
Buffy sighed. "Whatever. Just give me the address."  
  


***

  
  
"Like I was saying, wow. That really was amazing," MacKenzie told Buffy as they fastened their seatbelts and the Alitalia flight to LA started taxiing away from the terminal. She'd pretty much been talking non-stop since coming along on Buffy's late-night slayage the day before, and showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. "I mean, the way you took down that vampire..." MacKenzie gestured. "And that roundhouse kick? I'm totally going to need some more fight training. And that axe thing, how awesome is that? I mean it'd be even cooler if it could, like, shoot fire or something, right? Because the CGI guys are really good at fire, and can I just ask you some questions?" She got out her notepad. "OK, so why can't you just shoot them, like Blade? And how does it really feel to be dead? And seriously, I get the tall-dark-and-broody thing, but don't tell me you weren't attracted to Spike from the very start? What's it like to suddenly be just one of thousands of Slayers? And how are you and Faith getting along these days? Does it feel good to save the world, and what's your favourite apocalypse? And..."  
  
Buffy hit the buzzer and asked the flight attendant for a drink. It was going to be a long flight.  
  
MacKenzie ordered a Bloody Mary. "Because I'm thinking, what if my Buffy's favourite drink was a Bloody Mary? Wouldn't that be, like, a good commentary on how my power, I mean your power, is founded in the same demonic past as those you fight, and..."  
  
Groan.


	3. Chapter 3, in which groups get all focus-y and Lorne probably needs a footrub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While killing time in Rome, Buffy runs into a new Slayer with a shocking secret. Now, she's going to have to face her past to keep both herself and those around her from a Fate Worse Than Death... Hollywood.

**Development Hell**   
_Chapter 3, in which groups get all focusy_

Groan.

It was an inward groan, but a groan nonetheless. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, the look on the green demon's face when his phone rang for the 48th time that morning was sheer joy, like a thirsty vampire being handed a tall glass of otter. "Julia, how lovely to hear from you," he exclaimed as he hurried down the corridor towards his office, quickly mouthing "aspirin" at his assistant Van. "How's everything on set? Did you get the flowers I - Really? Well, sweetie, that just isn't right. I'll make sure they get you a trailer with a... Olympic size? You got it, honey. I'll give the boys in Gallifreyan Dimensions a ring and have that for you in two shakes of a zero-cal smoothie." He paused to listen, quickly snarf down the aforementioned aspirin, and cringe as he pushed the door shut with his foot. "Oooh, I'm not sure we do that anymore, but I'll check with our legal department. Directors are human too, after all... yes, I'm pretty sure he is. Tell you what, I'll make sure he gets the message without losing anything vital, how's that? Super. Talk to you later. Lots of hugs." He clicked off, sank into his chair and groaned again, this time out loud. He was about to buzz Van on the intercom and ask for something stronger when his assistant beat him to the punch by buzzing him.

"Mister Lorne?" The young intern sounded even more toadyish than usual. "There's someone here to see you."

"That's great, Van, but I could have sworn I asked you to keep my calendar free today."

"I did," Van quickly responded. "They don't have an appointment, but they're, um, very eager to meet you. I asked if they would come back tomorrow, but - Hey! You can't just go in there!"

Lorne's door was kicked open with the sort of flair that comes from many years of practice, and Lorne's heart skipped a beat in his ass. As, to be fair, most demons' hearts would upon facing a clearly upset Vampire Slayer. "Miss Summers," he cried in the same tone he'd used just a few minutes earlier, "how lovely to see you. And you too, MacKenzie. My, you two really do look like peas in a very attractive pod. Please, have a seat."

 

***

It soon became obvious that there would be layers to Buffy's upsetness. There was the story of how the upcoming movie had become an upcoming movie in the first place...

"Listen, sweetheart, I'm really sorry. It's entirely my fault. I made an offhand comment about 'The Vampire Slayer both men loved, both men lost, oh, I could sell that to any studio in a heartbeat, I see Japp and Orlando...' Harmless, right? Except of course this is Wolfram & Hart, and they used to have some rather... encouraging incentive plans to get employees to anticipate their bosses' wishes. So my very much former assistant, Preston, overheard me and immediately decided to Make It Happen. By the time I found out what he was doing, we'd already signed the contract with the studio, and..." Lorne shrugged.

"I don't get it," Buffy said. "How did this guy Preston even know anything about me?"

Lorne sighed. "Again, my bad. Kind of. I've heard Angel sing - "

"Wait, Angel _sings_?"

"Trust me, I use the term loosely." Lorne grimaced. "Anyway, I've heard him... do that often enough that I know pretty much everything about him." He held up his hands when Buffy's eyes widened. "Sorry, it's just how empath demons work, I can't help it. For the most part I just file it away somewhere at the back of my noggin, but then a couple of years ago, Wolfram & Hart sent some big brainsucking demon on me and everything about Angel wound up in their archives. Preston simply had Files & Records compile the relevant bits, hired a screenwriter to put it together, and sold it."

"Huh." Buffy took this in. "So they only have my life story up until I graduated high school? How can they make a movie based on that?"

Lorne took a deep breath. "Yeah, about that..."

And that was the next layer. Turned out, former boyfriends believed to have burned up saving the world coming back to life without telling anyone was a bit of a sensitive subject with Buffy. Even more so than the fact that they're prone to getting into loud shouting matches with other former boyfriends, the contents and lurid details of which are overheard by practically half the office.

Buffy got up and paced the room for a minute, fists clenched, and then took a deep breath and sat back down. "Right. I'll deal with him later. So how come you can't stop this? I thought you lawyer people were supposed to be all LA Law-y?"

"Ellaylo...? Oh. Sorry. Right. Well, that's kind of the problem. The movie business have always hired Wolfram & Hart, and apparently they... we proved years and years ago that it's OK to do stuff like this as long as they put a disclaimer in the credits saying that any similarity to persons living, dead or undead is coincidental. It's called the Roger Rabbit Rule."

"Are you saying _Roger Rabbit_ was based on a... Of course it was." Buffy shuddered and moved on. "And there's nothing you can do?"

"I'm afraid not. There's this whole legal mess, and paragraph 493 in Angel's employment contract stating that as a Wolfram & Hart employee he can't sue himself, and blah blah blah. They've invested a ton of money in this being the next big summer hit, and they're not going to back down. If you were the star of the movie we might have some pull, but for a love interest..." He immediately realised he'd started exposing the third layer of Summersian outrage when he saw Buffy's look.

"A _what_?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean... not that _you_ are, obviously. But... Honey," he turned to MacKenzie, "help me out here."

MacKenzie clearly wasn't entirely comfortable with that suggestion. "What? You got her into this, you tell her."

"Tell me what?" Buffy asked.

Lorne looked pleadingly at MacKenzie. "Please, MacKenzie. She has a code about killing humans, so you're safe."

"Tell me _what_?" Buffy asked again, her eyes, if possible, narrowing even further.

"Whatever." MacKenzie shrugged and tried to pretend it was nothing big. "It's nothing big, really. It's just, it's, um, the movie isn't really, technically, only about you."

Buffy looked back and forth between them in an attempt to understand. "The movie about me isn't about me?"

"Look, I don't know, OK? I only came in when they started casting. But apparently they did focus groups and stuff and it turned out nobody's interested in female action heroes. So the movie's really about Spike and Angel saving the world while you - I-I mean I figure out which one is more heroic and deserving of your, I mean my undying affection. If it's the perfect sparkling predestined romantic soulmate love you had with Angel..."

"'Predestined'?"

"...Or the hot and heavy self-loathing mutually abusive s&m thing with Spike. Their words, not mine," MacKenzie quickly added. "And I was serious about wanting to get your character right, because people like strong female characters and there's this one scene at the end of the first movie where I get to help Angel stake a vamp."

MacKenzie and Lorne were expecting Buffy to go completely ballistic at this. Instead, she just looked back and forth between them before sighing deeply. She got up and walked over to the window, and stood there with her back towards them looking out over sunny LA.

After a couple of minutes of very tense silence, Lorne made a gesture towards MacKenzie that might have been interpreted as "For the everlasting love of Cecil B Demille, _say something_." MacKenzie replied with one that might have meant "Me? Why _me_? I _like_ having full use of my legs." Lorne's following gesture appeared to mean "Please, I'll owe you big time," to which MacKenzie silently replied "OK, whatever, but you better remember that" and gingerly walked over and stood next to Buffy.

"You OK?"

"I'm great," Buffy replied curtly. "I only just discovered that Hollywood is going to use its entire machine to turn me into a princess-and-half-the-kingdom kind of deal. That's going to make our job _so_ much easier."

"I'm sorry, but I'm not writing it, you know? I'd drop out of the movie in a second if I thought it would help, but they'd just replace me and..." MacKenzie sighed and put her hands on the windowsill. "I've been doing this since I was fourteen, right? I'm nineteen now. That's ancient in this business. I basically had to drop out of high school to be on TV and spend every spring wondering if this is the year I get cancelled. And there are hundreds of girls just waiting to take my spot and be the one who's eaten alive by the paparazzi and doesn't even get to eat donuts for the next ten years."

"Huh." Buffy gave her a curious look. "Just to be sure - you're not some kind of mummy, are you?"

"Only according to about every third tabloid story. And they can never agree who the daddy is. Unless I'm a lesbian this week."

Buffy frowned. "What? No, I mean an actual inca mummy."

"Um, not that I know, why?"

"Oh, nothing. Just this thing where I keep running into people whose stories kind of resemble... nevermind." Buffy waved it off. "But is it really that bad? I mean, Donny Japp is doing OK for himself and he's, what..."

"Quite a bit older than me, yeah. But he has kind of an unfair advantage."

Buffy frowned. "Uh... I guess?"

MacKenzie grasped at the final straw. "Look, here's what I might be able to do. What if I take you to see the producers and you can talk to them directly? I'm not sure it'll make any difference, but... You came all this way, you should at least get to see how movies are made."

Buffy shrugged.

MacKenzie nodded hesitantly, then slightly more decisively. "Right. Mr Lorne? Thank you for your help, we'll be leaving now. _So long, farewell, auf wiedersehen, goodnight..._ "

Lorne flinched slightly, silently thanked whichever demon invented autotune, and smiled. "Your singing is coming along beautifully, my dear. I'll let you know when the _Sound Of Music_ remake starts casting."

After they left the office, Lorne finally dared to exhale again. He carefully leaned forward and pressed the intercom. "Uh, Van?"

"Yes, Mister Lorne?"

"I'm going to the bar, be a sweetie and hold all my calls. And if Angel asks if I had any meetings today, tell him... Tell him absolutely not, nuh-uh, none whatsoever. Got it?"

"Sure thing, Mister Lorne."

 

***

There was no denying that the entrance to the movie studio was impressive. A high wall with a grand old metal gate wide and high enough for a tank (or a stretch limousine) to drive through, a guardhouse with an impeccably dressed and clearly unbribable guard who smiled in exactly the same way every time a sightseeing bus full of tourists passed (which was roughly every thirty seconds), all kept in a state of constant deliberate scruffiness that seemed to say "We've been doing this since your great grandparents went to their first talkie, we know what you like, so just trust us."

The guard took their names, made a short phone call, and let them in.

In a sparsely lit room high above the courtyard, a gloved hand put the old-fashioned phone back on its hook. Two silhouettes, one with very large ears and one with a sharp, pointed profile, looked down at the two young women who walked towards their building.

"So. They're here."

"Yep. Time to bring out the big guns?"

"Of course."


	4. Chapter 4 and epilogue, in which acting is all about subterfuge and Buffy builds a better mousetrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While killing time in Rome, Buffy runs into a new Slayer with a shocking secret. Now, she's going to have to face her past to keep both herself and those around her from a Fate Worse Than Death... Hollywood.

**Development Hell**   
_Chapter 4 and epilogue: In which acting is all about subterfuge_

The lobby was big. Not in the "Oh my god, your bathroom is huge" sense, more along the lines of "Flight 209 for Chicago is now departing from gate 8, 9 and 10". Lights, publicity photos and movie posters were arranged to make anyone who didn't belong here feel tiny, like they could step through any door and into an entirely different world. Buffy might have wondered if this was genuine black magic or just a trick of interior decorating, and might even have given Willow a ring to ask about a counterspell before she fell headfirst into some epic digitally enhanced fantasy world or gritty 1970s social drama.

Instead, they were immediately intercepted by a man who appeared from the other end of the lobby and yet somehow seemed to immediately draw their attention to himself. _Woah_ , Buffy thought, _I guess that's what they call star quality. Or maybe it's just the pirate costume and the eyeshadow._

"MacKenzie! Darling!" He waved to them with his large triangular hat. "So good to see you again!"

"Mist... Donny! It's great to be back!" The two stars went through a slightly awkward elaborate mwah-mwah cheek kissing procedure.

"How was Rome? I haven't been there in ages."

"Oh, it was fabulous. Here, I want you to meet someone. Donny Japp, this is Buffy."

The movie star turned to the other woman, his jaw dropping just slightly. "What, you mean, as in..."

"As in THE Buffy Summers, the one, the only original Vampire Slayer."

"Fantastic," he cried and bent to kiss her hand. "It's so good to meet you, Miss Summers - may I call you Buffy? We're all really big fans here."

"Oh my God." She knew she was gushing in a pretty embarrassing way, but somehow couldn't help herself. "I loved you in _Pirates Of The North Sea_. And _Fright And Disgust In San Diego_. And _Teddy Knifehands_. And... _21 Jump Avenue_..." She giggled nervously. "Sorry, but do you ever, like, age at all?"

"Not if I can help it," he laughed with the sort of ease that comes from many years of being asked the same question. "Listen, Buffy," he added with a flirtatious wink, "the Producers sent me down to fetch you guys so we could all talk things through, but I know they want to talk to MacKenzie here first, so what say you and me go get a cup of coffee in the meantime and we'll join them later?"

Well, who would say no to that? She was here to find out how movies were made, after all. If MacKenzie wanted to know what it was like to be a Slayer, fine; step one is to face her demons on her own.

 

***

As tempting as it might be to listen in on their date, one thing that both Vampire Slayers and Movie Stars have in common is that they get far too little privacy. So let's just stick with the real hero of this story as she got into the executive elevator to face the Producers on her own.

No, really, trust me on this.

It's odd how something called an _executive_ elevator doesn't seem to actually _do_ anything, she reflected as she stepped inside and the doors closed. There was no muzak (executives can afford to _not_ be tortured), no sense of movement, nothing indicating which floors she passed. Still, when the doors opened, she found herself on a different floor - judging from the view of most of California through the huge windows, one rather very extremely high up. So this is where the entertainment capital of the world is run from, she thought.

"MacKenzie Williams? You can go right in." A secretary behind a desk, looking so spotless and perfect as to seem computer-generated (and the desk was pretty neat too) nodded to her. A pair of enormous office doors opened on their own, and she gulped, waded through the thick wall-to-wall carpet, and stepped inside.

Inside, it was pitch dark. She stood there, waiting, until a squeaky, jolly-sounding yet oddly menacing voice addressed her. "Hi, MacKenzie! Great to have you back!" She saw a white-gloved hand reach out and push a button, and a dim light came on in the room.

Sitting in two large leather chairs were a huge cartoon mouse and an equally huge badly CGI'd fox, both smoking cigars. The fox gave her an unfriendly look. "Is it really, Mister Mouse?", he said in a slight Australian accent. "With her actions over the last couple of days, I'm not sure I trust her."

"Oh boy! That's a good point, Mister Fox! She was supposed to study the Slayer, and now she seems to be trying to help her stop the movie from being made instead. Oh, MacKenzie, whatever are we supposed to do with you?" The two producers puffed on their cigars in perfect synchronisation.

The young actress looked at them. "So, you guys are... demons?"

The fox grinned, showing his teeth. "Technically we're anthropomorphic representations of the big conglomerates in the entertainment business, but 'demon' will do, I suppose."

"That's right, Mister Fox!" The mouse leaned forward again, winking at her. "MacKenzie, we've given you a heck of an opportunity here. For your own sake, I don't think you should throw that away. What do you say, huh?"

"I guess." The young actress gave them a dejected look. "You guys really don't have any new ideas at all, do you?"

The mouse smiled magnanimously, his sharp teeth glinting. "Well, it's all for your own good! We've been doing this for a long time, and we know what people want. Just think of us as your view... uh, Watchers."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really? Because as far as I've heard, Buffy's watcher lets her handle her own destiny."

The fox thumped his fist on the chair's armrest. "Don't speak of him! He's an embarrassment to people named Rupert!"

"People named Rupert can be embarrassed?"

"That's enough, you!" the mouse snapped. "This isn't up for debate. This story is about true love and heroism, and that story always goes the same way it's always gone: The Hero, the Sidekick, and the Girl. If that makes things difficult for Buffy Summers, gee, that's too bad, but that's not our problem. People want to see what they're used to seeing, and we and our various colleagues pay good money to make sure this story gets told. If it's not, people might start forgetting it. And we wouldn't want that to happen, would we, Mister Fox?"

"No, we wouldn't like that at all, Mister Mouse." The fox shook his head. "So you just act like you're told, missy, and someday your prince will come."

The mouse shot the fox an annoyed look and seemed about to say something about copyright, but then turned back to the young woman. "Is that clear?"

She thought for a few seconds, walked around the room and examined the various awards, statuettes, signed photos and luxury watches on display with the prerequisite sense of awe. "You know, I have a feeling if the real Buffy was here, you guys would be in trouble. She's good at beating demons up."

"But she's not, is she, my dear?" The mouse chuckled evilly. "And in case you get any ideas yourself, remember who's paid for all your fight training. It looks good on camera, but in real life..." He laughed. "Well, to quote a phrase: you fight like a cow."

"Yeah?" She suddenly turned and faced them. "Then how about a trip to Pamplona?"

Both Producers frowned, and a certain hush fell over the room. "Wh-what is that supposed to mean, Mister Fox?"

"I believe it's a 'quip', Mister Mouse. She's making a reference to the bull runnings at Pamplona. Far too obscure for your audience, of course."

The mouse's large ears twitched. "Golly, you don't say, Mister Fox? Then how would you know about it?"

"It was part of my news channel's exposé of how communism is rampaging through Europe," the fox replied with fairly balanced pride.

"I see. It seems she's learned something from the Slayer after all." The mouse turned to the actress. "But that doesn't make her the Slayer."

"Actually it does," she replied. "Sorry if my quipping's a bit rusty, but as I keep telling people, I'm on vacation. All I wanted was to hang around Rome and drink coffee and shop and go to parties. I even bought a tea cozy - do you guys know how hard it is to find a tea cozy in Italy? But apparently I don't get to do that, instead I have to come to LA and pretend that I'm not the real Slayer so there'll still be a real Slayer."

The Producers looked at her, then shared a slightly are-you-buying-this look with each other, then looked back at her. "Uh... come again?"

"What, you guys really can't tell us apart? Seriously? I _am_ Buffy the Vampire Slayer," Buffy said, for it was indeed she and had been all along. "MacKenzie might have her quirks, but she knows how this business works and figured you'd want to see her first, so we just switched clothes. She sang to Lorne to let him know what we were up to without any of your spies hearing it, and Lorne clued Donny Japp in since he's been a client of Wolfram  & Hart for like a hundred years. I didn't think it would actually work, but either this acting thing is totally easy or you guys don't even watch your own shows. Also, I just missed out on a date with Donny Japp, and I'm _not_ happy right now."

The two Producers looked tensely at each other. "Now that she mentions it, Mister Mouse, I did think her performance was a bit stiff."

"And you didn't say anything?"

The fox stubbed out his cigar. "She's supposed to be one of _your_ actresses. They all look alike to me, and I wouldn't trust any of them to do a credible performance as themselves."

"Why thank you, Mister Fox," the mouse squealed between gritted teeth. "Hey, wasn't it your idea to keep the lights down to 'keep her in the dark'? And I'm still not sure this isn't a desperate ploy by an untalented actress who - "

"Ooops." Buffy "accidentally" snapped the head off the Best Picture Academy Award for _Patton_.

" - 'se ideas are really important to us," the mouse quickly continued, "and whom we wouldn't dream of excluding from this project, and who, I want to add, still passes for nineteen?"

"Exactly," the fox added while he opened up a conveniently located minibar and quickly gulped down a shot of bourbon. "May we offer you a drink, Miss... sorry, Ms Summers? Violence never did anyone any good - no, _please_ put down the Golden Globe for _The French Connection_ \- let's discuss this like rational cartoons instead. I mean, we're not bad, we're just written that way. Aren't we, Mister Mouse?"

The mouse glared at him. "Why you...! Do you _want_ me to sue you? Because I will!" He then quickly turned back to Buffy with a bright smile. "What do you say, huh? Let's make a deal!"

Buffy seemed to consider it. "OK. Let me just make a phone call first."

The mouse rubbed his hands in not entirely convincing enthusiasm. "Hot dog!"

 

***

By the time Lorne, MacKenzie and Donny Japp joined them, the lights had been turned up, the cigar smoke aired out, and Buffy was sipping a quite passable cappuccino.

"Hi, folks!", the mouse greeted them, still trying to sound his old cheery self. "Boy, you were all in on it, huh? You sure fooled us, haha!"

"Sorry about that," MacKenzie said. "It's not that it wouldn't be awesome to get to play Buffy on the big screen and be an action hero and all that, but you know I'm kinda sick of being just an actress and doing what the director tells me because I really think I have a lot of ideas and so I really want to get into producing, so I figured that hey, if I could get Buffy alone in a room with you guys, worst case scenario for me would be you convinced her to let me do the movie, and if I got really lucky she'd make you see that I'm kind of like her so you'd let me do my own thing, which, check me out!"

Buffy looked at her. "Did you even breathe for any of that? I mean, yeah, that's, uh, totally the plan."

"So, what _is_ it you want, Ms Summers?", the fox asked.

"You know," Buffy started, "I've been at war since I was 15."

"Um..." Lorne raised his hand, "Sorry, but is this going to be one of your long speeches? Because Spike said - "

"I'm _on vacation_ ," Buffy replied. She sighed. "Fine. You tell them."

"Right," Lorne said. "So the way we see it, you want a story about heroes saving the world, and you've got those signed up already with my friends, who yours truly is trying his damnedest to keep from being corrupted by Wolfram & Hart, who _really_ want to make an example of Angel, and - "

"Uh-huh," MacKenzie interrupted. "So you know how reality shows are really popular right now? How about instead of making a movie series, you make a TV series about two vampires and their friends running an evil law firm and slowly becoming corrupted by it? They can star as themselves and everyone will think it's real, so Wolfram & Hart will get the public corruption they want, you will get the hit you want, Angel gets to run Wolfram & Hart the way he wants, and Buffy gets to stay out of it."

"And you?"

"I get to co-produce."

The fox sat up straight. "This is beyond insolence - WOAAH!" He hit the floor in a most ungraceful duck as MacKenzie tossed a sword in his general direction. "Where did you even get that from?"

"That's mine, sorry." Donny Japp picked up the pirate sword and stuck it back in its sheath, making sure to stand a few feet away from MacKenzie from now on.

"Gee, folks," the mouse quickly said, "there's no need to get upset, haha. Mister Fox? Do you think you could give the brothers Warner a call and set something up?"

"Certainly, Mister Mouse," the fox said as he shakily got to his feet. "Unless Ms Summers has any objections...?"

"Actually, do you know what?" Buffy walked over to the fox and whispered something in his ear.

"Really?"

Buffy shrugged. "Hey, they're the one who got me into this mess."

"Fine," the fox said. "I'll give the Jim Henson Company a ring too."

Lorne quickly drew up the paperwork, and the deal was finalised. The mouse waved as they got into the elevator, still trying to cover his frustration and humiliation under a deep layer of cartoon peppiness. "Have fun! See ya real soon! Pleasure doing business with you!"

"To infinity, and beyOW!" The fox yelped as the mouse kicked him in the shin.

The elevator doors had barely closed before MacKenzie let forth a mighty squee and hugged Buffy. "YAY! Thank you so much! I could never have done this without you!"

"Uh, you're welcome." Buffy extricated herself from the hug. "So you're cool with not getting to play me? Because as much as I hate to say it, you'd have made a pretty good - "

"Are you kidding?" MacKenzie didn't let her finish. "I'm in the fast lane now! Once I turn this into a successful TV series, I'll be able to run this town the way it should be run. Girl power, right? It's just like what you did, except I don't get a scythe. Do you think I should have a scythe? I mean, I could keep it in my office, and use it to intimidate directors, and..."

Buffy ignored MacKenzie's planning and turned to Donny Japp. "So why did you go along with this? I mean, not that I'm not really grateful, but it cost you a role, and I guess it can't have made you popular with the Producers...?"

Japp laughed. "Well, it was a pretty dull role. Does he really brood that much?"

"Um..."

"But mostly, it was just fun. I got into this because I loved acting, not paychecks. And besides, like you said, I've been doing this for a while now. People are starting to ask questions. I'm thinking it's probably time for a little change of scenery." He smiled. "Come to think of it, I haven't been to Rome in ages. There used to be this really romantic little restaurant on the Viale Valadier, I'd love to buy you dinner as thanks for this little adventure...?"

Buffy blushed. "Wh-what? Really? Me? And you? Nah. Seriously? And besides, what about - "

"You're on vacation, aren't you?"

"When you put it that way..."

As they exited the elevator, Buffy and Donny shared a taxi towards the airport, and Lorne and MacKenzie watched them go.

"So..." MacKenzie frowned. "She knows he's an immortal, right?"

"I have a feeling she's going to find out. She can handle it."

 

***

_Epilogue - a few months later_

The gang stood around in shock as the severity of Fred's condition really set in. She was dying, taken over by an ancient hellgod, and there seemed to be nothing they could do to stop it. Angel looked at them and said "Guys - "

"You don't have to say it," Wesley said.

"I'll say it anyway. 'Winifred. Burkle.' Seriously? That's the line?"

"CUT!" MacKenzie groaned. "Angel, please. Just say the line."

Angel checked his script. "You don't think it's a little... cheesy?"

"Yeah," Spike added. "And what about my line? 'Not this girl, not this day'? Like I can pencil it in for Tuesday or something?"

"I kinda like it," Fred said from her chair, still in make-up from her hospital scene. "I mean, we know you're going to fail, so it'll be ironic and - "

"...and makes me look like I can barely remember your name, let alone do anything to save you," Angel said. "At least you get to have a big death scene and spend the rest of the season in leather pants. They replaced me with a _puppet_ for a whole episode."

"'A whole episode'?" Spike scoffed. "Boo hoo. Try being a bleedin' ghost for half the season."

Angel continued, "And they had us be outsmarted by _Andrew_! If I didn't know any better, I'd say this whole thing was set up to make us look like a couple of idiots."

"That's silly," MacKenzie laughed. "What, like some, I dunno, ex-girlfriend of yours managed to threaten the network into making you both look foolish in public? Please, what are the odds of that?"

Angel frowned. "What are you - "

"Angelbums," Lorne quickly interrupted. "It's just 42 minutes every week pretending to be a slightly different version of yourself, in exchange for getting to do whatever you want with Wolfram & Hart in reality. But hey, if that's too much for you, just say the word and they'll replace you with Steve Carrell."

"Really? Steve Carrell would play me on TV?"

"What? No, he'd be CEO of Wolfram & Hart."

MacKenzie tried to bring them back on topic. "Can we just shoot the scene now?"

Angel shrugged. "Fine. But I don't want to be doing this forever. Can't we just have them draw a comic or something instead?"

"I'll see what I can do," MacKenzie promised, safe in the knowledge that this show would be on the air for years to come. "Aaaaand... action!"

_THE END_


End file.
